The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Twisted, eldritch roots burst through the shattered remains of what looks like a vintage particle accelerator, as if some organic force is trying to reclaim the ancient technology. Umm, the air's heavy with an overpowering scent of ozone and charged particles, like just before a thunderstorm, and it feels electric. Darkness clings to the edges of the decaying structure, illuminated only by the faint, blue-green glow seeping from what looks like crystalline growths merged with the wreckage. It's simply a fact that the accelerator's core has transformed into a miniature, self-sustaining wormhole.